


I Get By

by thekurosakiconundrum



Series: you say it's your birthday [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: And a little bit of het, Bicuriousity, Bisexuality, Canon Compliant, Femslash, Foursome, Including 685/686, Mild D/s, Multi, PWP, Slash, Spanking, Toys, love and friendship - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9362126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekurosakiconundrum/pseuds/thekurosakiconundrum
Summary: Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends.Oh, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends, with a little help from my friends.Or: Ichigo wants something that Orihime can't give, so she asks some friends for help. Fortunately, Renji and Rukia are more than willing to offer their particular brand of aid.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title Struggles: Almost titled this one "Swing Low" instead, but I think it's not technically swinging that's going on here. Also I could have called it "I Get Bi" instead eyyyyy so be glad I didn't do that.
> 
> Also, it's weird being the kind of person who literally posts their sexual fantasies about anime characters on the internet again after almost six months of not being that person. o////o
> 
> This has been languishing, nearly finished, in my documents folder for months. I had originally hoped to post it for Renji's birthday, 8/31, but it got out of control and I didn't finish it. Then I forgot about it. So that's why it's Renji's birthday in this story.
> 
> I found it last night, slapped an ending on it this morning (*cough*), and decided to post it this evening.
> 
> I don't have any idea if this is good enough to stand with "Solutions" and "The Arrancar Talks."  
> I can't see any reason it isn't, but somehow it feels more embarrassing haha. Maybe it's because these people are ~married~.
> 
> So let me know how you like it. Even if it really is terrible and you just feel awkward after reading it and I should be embarrassed. 
> 
> Geez.
> 
> <3  
> KC
> 
> Oh btw, "anata" is Japanese for "you" and it's a usually bit rude to address someone in the second person like that. But it's also used as a term of endearment from a wife to a husband.

 

“Orihime and I brought you a birthday present!” Rukia called cheerfully, and Renji felt simultaneously excited and worried by the slight edge in her voice, the familiar malicious glee. Was it at his expense, or someone else’s? If so, whose?

She slid open the door and popped into the room, pulling… 

Oh.

_Oh._

Holy shit.

_Ichigo._

She’d brought him an Ichigo, wrapped up in black satin ribbons and naked but for that, a pinkly embarrassed but somewhat proud Orihime following behind.

Renji looked to Ichigo’s face, to see what he made of this, and found embarrassment there, covered badly by his habitual scowl, but also a kind of shy eagerness. He had to restrain himself from actually rubbing his hands together in happy anticipation—that was not the look of a man dragooned into playing a joke on his friend. 

It seemed too good to be true. Renji looked to his wife with a raised brow, temporarily ignoring his present. “Now, darlin’, haven’t we talked about taking possession of things that aren’t yours?”

“Orihime said you could borrow him!” Rukia chirped, happy as anything. “I know I said it’s a present, but she gets to borrow me in trade. Deal?”

“Fuck yeah, it’s a deal,” Renji agreed. He and Rukia were no strangers to honoring the spirit rather than the letter of this whole marriage thing—and really, though she wasn’t Renji’s type, he could admit Ichigo’s wife was almost as hot as his own, so he was hardly opposed to the idea of her and Rukia together. Especially if he got to watch.

But really, the Kurosakis? He’d always envisioned them as so sexually conservative… Like, missionary was the only position he could really imagine the two of them in, all lovey-dovey-like. Not that Renji didn’t like the a good round of missionary from time to time. Having Rukia under him like that was in fact a rare treat, as she tended to prefer positions where she had more freedom of movement.

But he supposed they must be more adventurous than he’d imagined. Rukia came up to him, beckoning him down to whisper in his ear. “Turns out that what I’ve got no desire for, Ichigo’s got no one to give him. Here’s your chance to put your dom hat on, Ren.”

Oh, _hell_ yes. This day was getting better and better, Renji thought, suppressing the urge to do a little happy dance. He was happy being Rukia’s plaything most of the time, but every once in a while he felt the need to be a bit more… in charge. His wife, though, just wasn’t into it that way, and Renji wasn’t enough of a proper sadist to enjoy any kind of game Rukia wasn’t. The couple times they’d tried had, well, the image the recollection conjured in Renji’s mind was of a dry, dusty and wholly unimpressed desert with a flaccid cactus slumping sadly somewhere off to one side. Needless to say, the endeavor had not been a success by any stretch of the imagination. The point was that an opportunity like this was not one to be missed.

It was all a bit sudden, though. Renji leaned in close to Rukia and asked, _sotto voce,_ “Shouldn’t we, like, talk through this first or something?”

“Been there, done that,” she replied, and brandished a folded piece of paper he hadn’t noticed before. “Told him our safeword and had him fill this out. You should have seen him blush!”

Renji opened it and read it over, his smile growing to a delighted grin as he took in Ichigo’s preferences, outlined for him in neat checky-box form, and gave her a thumbs-up after he handed the sheet back to her. “Alright, I got this.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, honey,” Rukia told him, smirking, and then she gave him a wink and turned back to Orihime. 

Renji straightened and turned to Ichigo, looking him up and down lingeringly, licking his lips as he stalked in a circle around his captive. He especially liked the way Ichigo’s wrists were so neatly tied behind his back with a separate ribbon. He had his legs free—he’d had to walk in here, after all—but his torso was decorated in criss-crossing ribbons, wrapped all around him with the greatest concentration around his hips, teasingly obscuring some key bits. It looked like Renji had the option of leaving him so alluringly half-hidden, removing the decorative wrappings but leaving the wrists tied, or untying him wholly.

Renji ran a hand down Ichigo’s arm as he came to stand in front of him.  Oh, man—he was really excited about this. He’d always regretted never having a chance to indulge his fascination with his friend, to find out what Ichigo looked like when he came, what he sounded like with Renji’s dick in him. 

When Ichigo had ended up with Orihime, he’d thought his initial impression of Ichigo as someone whose temperament would be greatly improved by a hard, thorough fucking and some regular, loving ill-use had been wrong. (He’d considered the possibility that it was Orihime who he’d misjudged, but quickly decided against it. The mind boggled.) But it looked like he’d been right after all, and better yet, he hadn’t missed his chance.

He decided not to open with a comment to this effect, not wanting to embarrass Ichigo too much (yet.) Instead, he offered something simple and true. “This is a good look for you, Ichigo. You’re very sexy.”

“Um,” Ichigo replied, his already pink face turning pinker, unsure of what to do with the compliment. He frowned dubiously, like he wasn’t sure if Renji was serious or messing with him and added a somewhat sardonic, bemused, “Thanks.”

Renji smiled, not even trying to make it look any less predatory than it felt. At Rukia’s prompting, she and Orihime eased out of Ichigo’s line of sight, arm in arm, to settle on the couch on the other side of the room, either to watch for a while or start something of their own. Lovely as they were, Renji wasn’t interested in them at the moment. But Ichigo seemed keenly aware of their presence, and while Renji thought he could do something fun with that later, right now he wanted Ichigo’s focus on him.

So he stepped in even closer, running his hands down Ichigo’s chest, taking care to drag his thumbnails over Ichigo’s nipples, which poked visible peaks in the ribbons covering them, whether from the coolness of the air in the air-conditioned house or because he was already a little aroused, Renji didn’t know. But the touch made Ichigo shudder and huff out an involuntary breath, responding wonderfully to Renji’s touch, focusing in on him just like he’d wanted, so he suspected the latter. Good.

Renji threaded a hand into Ichigo’s hair, which was still long enough to hold onto, though much shorter than it used to be, and used his grip to tilt his head back, not pulling too hard, yet. A gentle threat, or perhaps a teasing promise. They’d find out.

Oh, it was definitely the latter. Ichigo’s breathing picked up noticeably, and he swayed slightly, increasing the tension on his hair before he realized what he was doing and stopped. Renji leaned close, tilting his head as if he was going to kiss him but stopping short, running his nose teasingly along Ichigo’s instead. 

“Do you like having your hair pulled, Ichigo?” Renji asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his mouth bare centimeters away from Ichigo’s.

Ichigo didn’t answer, and Renji swore he could feel the heat emanating from his brightly blushing face.

“Tell me,” Renji demanded softly, his low voice almost a croon.

“Yes,” Ichigo admitted, almost inaudible.

“Good,” Renji purred approvingly. “Does it turn you on?”

“…Yes,” Ichigo whispered again with a palpable air of confession. Aroused and ashamed—what a delicious combination. 

“Do you like being naked and bound for me, Ichigo?” Renji asked, knowing the answer, wanting to hear Ichigo say it. 

“Renji…” Ichigo complained, squirming a little.

“I like having you this way,” Renji went on, insistent. “Just looking at you is getting me so hard. Do you like that you turn me on, Ichigo? That looking at you makes me want to fuck you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ichigo sighed breathily, the best response of the bunch. He liked that, did he? Liked being looked at and being wanted—that was good news. There were lots of fun things to do with an exhibitionist and Renji should know, being a bit of one himself. And if Rukia and Orihime really were going to watch this… Ooh. Good times.

“So,” Renji said, coming back to his earlier question. “Let’s try this again. Do you like being naked and bound for me, Ichigo?”

Ichigo tried to duck his head in embarrassment but only succeeded in making Renji pull harder on his hair. He gasped at the sting, and then, finally, answered, “Yes.”

“Good boy,” Renji cooed at him, pleased by his easily-extracted compliance. 

At the sound of Renji’s voice, Ichigo’s breath caught in his throat, his lips parting and his eyes going wide—so he had bit of a thing for that, huh? Made sense, fit with the general trend that Renji was starting to see. His mouth looked terribly appealing, soft and a little open in shock and helpless arousal, and Renji couldn’t resist the temptation of those lips anymore. He kissed his captive hard, and Ichigo opened to him eagerly with this needy little sound that went straight to Renji’s dick. 

He didn’t hesitate to thrust his tongue into Ichigo’s mouth, claiming, invading. And what a nice mouth it was—soft lips, softer tongue, and heat, heat, heat. Ichigo kissed back just as hungrily, the two of them meeting in a tooth-jarring clash, but as Renji pressed forward a little harder, Ichigo caved, going pliant in his arms and accepting Renji’s kiss. He’d wanted, apparently, to be forced to submit a little. _Goddamn,_ Renji thought—Ichigo couldn’t have done anything to turn him on more if he’d tried.

They kissed for a long time, until their mouths were red and bruised and they were both breathing hard. Until they were just plain hard, too, their bodies pressed together tightly, Renji’s hand that wasn’t still gripping Ichigo’s hair squeezing his beribboned ass to pull them close. Not that Ichigo needed the encouragement, as his hips had taken on a slow grind to match Renji’s, rubbing his bare cock against Renji’s doubly cloth-covered one, rocking eagerly against him, each forward press accompanied by the hum-buzz of a soft exclamation of pleasure against Renji’s lips. Well, this was escalating quickly.

As they pulled apart, Renji felt a strand of saliva stretch between his lips and Ichigo’s, snapping when he licked his lips. Fuck, what a mouth… Renji let go of Ichigo’s hair to toy with Ichigo’s bottom lip with his index finger, looking into Ichigo’s eyes as he did so, entranced by the way so much of the warm chocolate brown of them was swallowed up by black pupil. Decisions, decisions… How much patience did Renji have? He kind of wanted to play with Ichigo for ages, but in his book mind one of the big plusses about having sex with other guys was that you didn’t have to fuck around with as much foreplay. Not that he didn’t like foreplay, it was just that he liked having his dick somewhere soft and wet more.

Soft and wet… Renji slid his finger into Ichigo’s mouth and watched as his lips closed, apparently automatically, around it, his eyes falling shut as he sucked. It felt tantalizing, Renji decided. That was the word. It felt nice in and of itself, but all he could think was how much he wanted that mouth on his dick. Too soon? Nah.

Ichigo was just as ready as he was to move on, that much was evident from his glazed eyes and his little frown of concentration, from the proud, jutting curve of his cock where it had escaped its ribbon confines. Hmm, actually…

Renji pulled his finger away from Ichigo’s mouth reluctantly so he’d have both hands free for what he wanted to do next. He ran the still-damp finger up the spine of Ichigo’s cock—damn, but it was hard—earning himself a gasp and a wild, unconscious buck of Ichigo’s hips. He watched Ichigo’s face, the way his brows lowered as he struggled to control his reaction, as Renji trailed the rough fingertip over the sensitive head of Ichigo’d dick, rubbing little circles over the slit of it until he whimpered quietly once, twice, and let out a soft cry, sensitized to almost the point of pain as a bead of pre-come welled up to smear slickly under Renji’s fingertip.

What a nice dick Ichigo had, curved up perkily in a way that looked unfairly cute and had to make his wife a happy woman. It was a quite respectable size, but not an awkward inconvenience like Renji’s—though he was the envy of his locker-room companions, he’d always found being as well-endowed as he was a pain in the ass. (Though, granted, his ass was not the one first and foremost pained.) 

Ichigo’s, though, fit nicely in his hand as he took hold and jacked it a couple times, just to see his reaction. And what a reaction it was, his mouth falling open on what had to be the sexiest fucking gasp Renji had ever seen, his shoulders curling up like he’d taken a punch to the gut as he sucked in a breath that got caught in his throat halfway in when Renji’s hand reversed directions. Ichigo must be _so_ goddamn turned on to react to something so simple as a few strokes of Renji’s hand so… magnificently.

The way Ichigo was just letting him do as he pleased was kind of killing Renji. He’d expected to have to fight Ichigo for every bit of submission he gave, but with the exception of that kiss at the beginning, Ichigo was as passive and pliant as anything. Part of it was just that his body was tied up so he couldn’t do a whole lot, but that didn’t account for all of it. He wasn’t gagged, after all. Was shyness helping keep him quiet, or was he just so starved for this that he couldn’t bring himself to offer any resistance? Pride, it seemed, had not just taken a back seat to need but been thrown out of the bus altogether. 

Whatever the explanation, Renji was gonna roll with it because it was hot as fuck and he wasn’t getting any sign from Ichigo that his lack of defiance was anything to do with being bored or not into this. No, indeed—looking at Ichigo, Renji definitely favored the ‘too turned on to care’ explanation. Just being tied up, he thought, was really fucking doing it for Ichigo right now. He was probably getting off on his submission just as much as Renji was. _Shit,_ but he was sexy.

Before Renji did anything else, though, he had to fix Ichigo’s ribbons, he decided. He hooked his fingers through one loop that crossed low on his hips, tugging on it to try to get a little space between the fabric and Ichigo’s body. There—perfect. It took some careful maneuvering (Ichigo’s cock was too hard to bend much) but he got it slipped under the ribbon after a moment, cradled against Ichigo’s belly by a strip of black shiny satin. Utterly delectable, that’s what Ichigo was—Renji stepped back a pace, admiring his handiwork, his eyes roving up Ichigo’s body until once again they caught on his mouth.

“Ichigo, do you want to suck my dick?” Renji asked, the organ in question twitching eagerly within the confines of his fundoshi at the thought of getting into Ichigo’s intolerably appealing mouth.

Ichigo hesitated, taking a moment to parse the words through his haze of arousal. After a moment, he nodded, eyes dropping to the bulge in Renji’s shihakusho. He licked his lips, probably unaware of how _hungry_ the gesture made him look.

Renji shook his head, unimpressed. “Use your words, Ichigo.”

After another hesitation—not totally past the point of caring about his pride, then—Ichigo answered, “Yeah.”

Renji just stared at him, trusting that the expression on his face communicated ‘you can do better than that’ well enough.

Ichigo stared back defiantly, lips pursed, eyes narrowing. Looked like he wasn’t ready to ask for it yet… maybe it really had been part shyness keeping him quiet after all.

Renji sighed and shook his head, conveying his disappointment. Ichigo’s eyes widened the tiniest bit, giving Renji a fleeting impression of excitement and eagerness. _Oh-ho_ , he thought, was he being provoked?

Well, if Ichigo wanted punishment, Renji could do that. 

He reached up and caressed Ichigo’s face lightly, eyeing him balefully before drawing his hand back and delivering a light slap, striking Ichigo’s cheek with his fingers in a noisy, stinging blow that likely wouldn’t bruise at all. It startled Ichigo more than anything, making him jerk back in alarm then just kind of stare at Renji, bemused, his cheeks very pink and his cock very hard. 

“I told you to use your words and what do I get? ‘Yeah.’ That’s not even a word, Ichigo. I’m gonna ask you the same question again in little while, and I’d better hear my name, at least one ‘please’ and what it is you wanna do. Got it?”

Ichigo, scowling nodded mutely. Renji frowned at this continued quiet rebellion but let it pass. “Let’s see if we can’t do somethin’ about this attitude, now, Ichigo. You’re too proud by half.”

Renji stroked the extra-pink spot on Ichigo’s cheek as he considered the problem, then ordered, “Go get on the bed—I want your ass in the air.”

Ichigo hesitated, eyes wide, and Renji raised a disapproving eyebrow at him to let him know his patience not infinite. Another second went by, and Renji bit out, “Do as I say, _boy._ ”

Ichigo was in motion before he quite knew what he was doing, if Renji was any judge. Ichigo climbed up to the edge of the bed, his movement neat and fluid despite his limited range of motion, and then paused, apparently considering if he could figure out even a slightly dignified way to do this. He knelt, sparing a glance for the ladies on the other side of the room but quickly looking away, apparently unable to bear their regard. 

Renji watched, curious as to how Ichigo was going to manage his task. He started out in a sitting position except with his legs apart (despite the fact that Renji hadn’t specified he needed to spread them), then bent at the waist, lowering himself slowly to the bed to settle with his face turned to one side, pressed into the blankets, shifting his weight forward onto his face and shoulders to lift his hips.

Renji smiled around a bitten lip and briefly palmed his erection, pleased by the erotic display of obedience. He crossed the distance between, leaning forward to see how Ichigo was doing with this turn of events, peering down at his face to take in his expression. He looked, as it turned out, remarkably cute, staring up sideways at Renji, looking somewhere between mutinous and mortified. The expression might have been intimidating if Ichigo had been in any position except this one, but as it was his willingly face-down ass-up body belied any hint of a threat evident on his face.

The cute face he was making was a good feature, but not quite as good of a feature as the way this position showed off Ichigo’s gorgeous ass. His spine was bowed fetchingly, his hips pushed up and back, his legs apart and his balls hanging heavy between them as he shamelessly presented himself. Renji moved back around behind him, hidden from Ichigo’s view, and ran a hand over his ass, allowing himself to spend a moment just squeezing it, groaning under his breath at the yielding firmness of it under his hand.

The other advantage to this position was when Renji went to the chest at the foot of the bed, Ichigo couldn’t see what he was doing at all because he had to much of his weight on his face to turn it. It was going to be a surprise, which pleased Renji greatly. He liked keeping Ichigo in suspense. He took out the chest’s insert, upon which a spare blanket and a few extra pillowcases were piled, and set it on the floor. Then, in the real bottom, he found his prize, one among many in his and Rukia’s (okay, mostly Rukia’s, the girl loved her toys) ever-growing sex-toy collection.

The one he grabbed out was a sleek, short black silicone butt plug of medium thickness. It would do nicely for what he had planned, Renji thought. He grabbed some lube out of there, too, and settled behind Ichigo, not letting on or letting him see what he was doing. He had to be starting to worry about what was coming next, Renji thought with a small smirk. He carefully but silently slicked up the toy, then went to put it in but got distracted by the gorgeous sweeping curve of Ichigo’s back, running one hand from shoulder to ass in a lingering caress. He leaned in and kissed the small of Ichigo’s back, scraped his teeth over his tailbone. Renji was tempted to lick him out a little, but that hardly counted as punishment. Neither did the toy, but that was okay—it was only part of his plan, after all.

Renji smiled to himself as he pressed it to Ichigo’s hole, thoroughly enjoying the gasp it earned him—though Ichigo, Renji noted, did not tense up. Seemed like he liked being touched there—actually, Renji was almost sure he’d just shifted to lift his ass and spread his legs a wee bit more. Somebody was a little bit of a slut, huh? “Eager brat.”

Renji pushed the toy into him until it was held in place by its shape and his internal muscles, so incredibly fucking turned on by the way Ichigo’s hole opened under the pressure, the look and feel of it both, resistance at first and then that delicious _give_ , not to mention the sound of Ichigo’s breathy, needy groan.

Mmm, not even a token protest. Was this why Ichigo hadn’t objected to ending up in this unfortunate (for him, it was very fortunate for Renji) position? Was having something shoved up his ass what he’d come here for? Renji could definitely help him out with that. He was sorely tempted to change directions entirely and angle to get his dick in that tight hole ASAP, but no, it could wait.

Still, though, he slipped a finger under the flared base of the toy to touch the rim of Ichigo’s stretched-open hole, delighting in the way it shivered and twitched under his touch. Later, for sure. Later he’d get Ichigo back in just this position and fuck him senseless. He looked so fucking hot like this, face-down on the bed with his ass in the air.

A rather disheveled Rukia padded silently over to him—no, to the toy chest. She grabbed her favorite all-purpose vibrator out of it, a little gray one with a white handle that, as Renji recalled, worked great for either inside or out. Waggling it at him, she favored him with a cheeky wink and sauntered back to Orihime, who was watching her husband try to press back into Renji’s touch without Renji noticing over here on the bed with an expression of mixed lust and fascination on her face (and her spectacular tits bared).

Renji gave Ichigo’s ass another two-handed squeeze in substitution—you just couldn’t look at a pair of tits like that and not want to squeeze them. (And lick them, and bite them, and suck on them, and mash your face between them, and have her hold them together so you could get your dick in the narrow space between and fuck…)

Turning his attention away from Ichigo’s wife, who’d gone very pink when she caught Renji staring, and back to the man himself, who had missed the whole exchange, Renji stared down at his ass contemplatively, anticipation roiling hotly in his belly. He was suddenly very glad of Ichigo’s attitude problem.

He fondled Ichigo’s ass a bit more (okay, yeah, maybe he was slightly obsessed with it,) then grinned evilly to himself and pressed the button on the base of the plug. Ichigo gasped in surprise as it buzzed to life, vibrating merrily, and then moaned as Renji wiggled it around inside him. The sound of his voice was overloud and desperate, gloriously slutty. 

He heard a feminine echo from across the room, and it wasn’t Rukia’s familiar alto. He couldn’t help looking, though he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to or not, and saw that Rukia was using her vibrator to play with one of Orihime’s big, pink nipples. Ichigo heard it too, tensing under Renji’s hands at the reminder that his wife was here. He tried to turn his head, but Renji grabbed his head and held him in place, not wanting to go there just yet.

Ichigo’s newly regained tension ought to be easy enough to dispel. Renji tugged on the toy inside him, pulling it out a little, and then let Ichigo’s hole swallow it up again, his cock twitching wetly against his underwear at the strength with which Ichigo’s body sucked at the toy.  Ichigo moaned, a helpless, almost despairing edge to the sound, but he relaxed again as Renji fucked him with it shallowly a few more times, pleasure making him melt despite his shame. 

“Now, then,” Renji began. “I think that’s enough stalling. You’ve been very good for the last few minutes, but that doesn’t make up for your bad attitude earlier. Still, good behavior counts for something. I was going to give you ten”—and here Renji patted Ichigo’s ass to make his meaning explicit—“but I’ll only give you five. You have to count them, okay, Ichigo?”

Ichigo swallowed audibly. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice low and rough, “Yeah, okay.”

Rukia’s questionnaire had told him Ichigo liked a little pain, and since Renji had seen him withstand incredible amounts of the stuff, he decided not to pull his slaps any to make them hurt less—he wouldn’t aim for maximum pain, but he wouldn’t go easy, either. He gave Ichigo’s ass one last caress then lifted his hand and brought it down hard with a loud, immensely satisfying _smack._

Ichigo didn’t cry out—of course he didn’t—but his voice caught as he whispered, “O-one.” 

“Louder, Ichigo.”

“One,” Ichigo answered grudgingly, the tone telling Renji he was scowling, the word carrying the air of a ‘fine, then.’

If that’s how he wanted to play it…

Renji actually put a little of his strength behind the blow the next time he spanked Ichigo, and the force of it made him jolt forward, a small, startled cry spilling from his lips. 

“Two,” Ichigo gasped, forgetting to show his irritation, his voice conveying nothing but breathless desire as he squirmed a little, surreptitiously. Trying to get some friction, maybe, since his cock was still being held against his belly by that ribbon.

Renji bit back a groan—Ichigo was so fucking sexy like this it that it ought to be illegal. The fact that he could be such a complete badass at times only made it that much sweeter that he was kneeling here on Renji’s bed, clearly getting off so fucking hard on his spanking.

Renji aimed his next slap closer to the center so as to disturb the plug a little, delighting in the way it made Ichigo yelp a curse as he jolted forward again and the way his “Thre-ee” came out sounding more like a moan than anything else.

Orihime moaned, too, over there on the other side of the room and Renji looked up to see at her, finding her sitting on the edge of the couch with Rukia behind her, naked with Rukia stroking the lips of her pussy—which was decorated with burnt-orange curls that matched her husband’s—with the head of the vibrator. 

Her eyes were on the two of them, flicking back and forth between her bound husband and him, her eyes running up Renji’s bare chest devouringly. Heat spiked up through Renji’s gut as he looked back at her—Ichigo, after all, wasn’t the only one who liked to be admired. Also, seeing such naked lust on the sweet and sometimes-childish, sometimes-motherly Orihime’s face seemed somehow completely incongruous and all the more appealing for it.

Orihime’s eyes met his and she flushed, whimpering but surprisingly not looking away, her eyes glazed with desire. Rukia murmured something in her ear and she— _shit_ —spread her legs wider, showing herself off to him. Shit, he’d had no idea—she loved Ichigo and desired Rukia, but he’d had no idea she was attracted to him, too. It’d sure be nice if he got to fuck her sometime… With Rukia directing, maybe, helping Orihime learn how to command him as practice for trying it on the as-yet untrained Ichigo. Or with Ichigo watching, not sure if he wanted to fly into a jealous rage or just jerk off to the sight of another man fucking his wife.

_Nng._

Putting the fantasies out of his head (it wasn’t like reality wasn’t hot enough, after all), he turned back to Ichigo. He ruffled Ichigo’s hair, and confided to him in a low voice, “Orihime’s getting off on watching me spank you. Rukia, too, though Rukia is also probably getting off on playing with your wife’s pussy.”

“Ohgod,” Ichigo muttered, his eyes squeezing shut, the expression on his face a mix of dismay and excitement. So far, he’d seemed terribly embarrassed that his wife was seeing him like this, and Renji guessed that he was also probably turned on even more by what he perceived as his own debasement. Renji had been there a time or two, for sure. 

Renji spanked him fourth time, aiming towards the center like last time, earning himself another cry and a whined “four.”  That voice, it was doing things to him—he was seriously fucking hard right now, though probably not as desperate as Ichigo. A quick glance under Ichigo confirmed this— _fuck_ —by way of the strand of pre-come that stretched from Ichigo’s dick to the little wet patch it had drooled on the blanket. He spanked Ichigo again, one last time.

“Five,” Ichigo sighed, relief in his voice. 

Renji petted his head and neck, stroking him approvingly. “That was very good, Ichigo. You’re being a very good boy for me. Now I’m gonna ask you again—do you want to suck my dick?” 

“Yeah, Renji, I do,” Ichigo panted. 

“Mmm, you do what?”

“Let me suck it,” Ichigo… yes, begged was the right word, but in barely more than a whisper. _“Please”_

Fuck, Renji had him good, now. “Louder. Let _her_ hear you.”

“No…” Ichigo protested, distress seeping through his haze of desire. “Renji, no…”

“Yes,” Renji insisted mercilessly. “She likes it. She likes you like this. Let her hear you beg me. If you don’t, I’m going to put you on your hands and knees and do nothing but wiggle that plug around lightly for the next fifteen minutes. Spanking clearly wasn’t a very effective punishment.”

“Fuck!” Ichigo spat angrily, then more quietly, he added, “Fuck, okay, fine.”

He took a deep breath and began in a flat, hard tone, “Renji, pl—“ but his voice cracked and the ‘please’ came out halfway to being a moan. “Please, let me s-suck your… your cock.”

Arousal ripped through Renji’s body with the force of a sword thrust, stealing his breath with its intensity. His eyes fell shut on a groan of appreciation, so he couldn’t see Orihime’s reaction, but he heard her low, breathless moan echoing his own. 

“Okay, baby. Okay, that’s good. I’mma let ya suck it now,” Renji promised, grabbing the still-bound Ichigo by the shoulders and raising him to his knees. Now that he was free to do so, Ichigo looked over to Rukia and Orihime, his breath catching as he took in the two of them. It was quite a sight, that was for sure.

Renji watched Orihime stare back, looking almost as embarrassed as Ichigo. But after a moment, she gave him what he needed—a reassuring smile. “Y-you’re doing good, _anata.”_

Ichigo licked his lips, seeming to get distracted from his own position when Orihime’s eyes fluttered shut and her breasts heaved as she gasped when Rukia pressed the head of the vibrator to her opening. He stared with an expression of straightforward male lasciviousness for a moment, and then his face softened and he said, “You, too, hon.”

While this slightly mood-breaking exchange of reassurances was happening, Renji tried to figure out how he was going to play this. He’d been planning to have Ichigo kneel on the floor  while he sat on the bed—a good blowjob always made Renji’s knees go weak, so standing was not his favorite, no matter how hot it would be to tower over Ichigo like that. But there wasn’t any way to do that where Rukia and Orihime could see well… He wanted them to be able to see not just Ichigo’s bowed head but the wide stretch of his lips around Renji’s cock. Would he get to see that expression of rapturous lust, twin to the one on Ichigo’s face, on Orihime’s features as she looked at his dick? Fuck, the idea of that made him hot.

Renji slipped out of his pants and walked around the bed to the side closer to the two women, opposite where Ichigo still knelt. He piled up some pillows and half-lay half-sat propped up against them, his legs apart. 

“C’mere, baby,” he directed, pointing between his legs. “Didn’t ya want somethin’?”

Ichigo’s mouth fell open on a rather flattering ‘o’ of desire and surprise as his eyes were torn away from his naked wife and drawn to the equally naked Renji, flicking down his body and catching on his very erect cock. Ichigo shuffled over and Renji realized the flaw in this plan and sat up fully. He gestured for Ichigo to turn around and said, “Alright, I’ll untie you for this. But you’ve got to be good and do what I say.”

Ichigo said, “Yeah, Renji, I will,” and turned around to allow Renji to reach around him and undo the big bow around his middle, unwinding the ribbon from his body, and then the smaller and more fiddly knot on his wrists.

He flexed his wrists, stretching a little, and turned back around. Renji was momentarily stunned into silence by the effect of all that unbroken Ichigo skin—he’d thought the criss-crossed ribbons were alluring, but Ichigo was so spectacularly attractive _au naturel_ that he decided he liked this way a little better. 

Ichigo grinned at him, a measure of his usual cockiness returning. The grin combined with all that skin might make something flop around in his chest, but Renji didn’t like what it implied. He seized Ichigo by the hair again and growled, “Don’t get cocky just because I untied you, boy. I _will_ spank you again, and next time I won’t go so easy. 

The grin melted off Ichigo’s face, replaced by the same dizzy arousal he’d seen earlier.

Perfect, just what he’d been aiming for. Renji smirked—Ichigo was so easy.

Renji released him and settled back to his previous position, propped up against the head of the bed. “Come here, Ichigo, and show me how well you can suck my dick. You’d better do it good, or else I’ll just hold you in place and fuck your mouth until I’m ready to come down your throat.”

Judging by Ichigo’s breathless, glazed expression, this threat was not terribly effective as a deterrent to bad performance. Nonetheless, as he moved into position, he said, “You realize I haven’t done this in like five years, right?”

“Mmm,” Renji agreed pleasantly. “Then I’ll direct you. How about you lick my balls, first.”

Ichigo’s waning blush sprang back in full force and he stared down between Renji’s legs as he settled there, his eyes widening as he noticed that the only hair Renji had in that area was around the base of his cock and trailing up his belly. Hey, it was Rukia’s preference, and it was no hassle for him since there was a kido for that, adapted from the one Squad Four used to remove hair from around wounds. He’d been terrified the first time she’d used it on him, no matter how many times she’d demonstrated her proficiency on other parts of their bodies, but now it was easy and routine. 

Ichigo’s hand on his thigh as he leaned in sent excitement sparkling up through Renji’s belly. The first touch of his tongue had Renji biting his lip on a sigh, Ichigo’s soft tongue dragging wetly over the smooth, sensitive skin of his sac. (Rukia, Renji had long since decided, totally called it with the hair-removal thing. He’d always loved having his balls touched, but it felt even better without the skritch of hair getting in the way.)

The next lick was firmer and less tentative, and Ichigo brought up the hand he wasn’t using to prop himself up to hold Renji’s dick out of the way. Renji groaned and let his head loll back as Ichigo nuzzled the base of it as he kissed and licked Renji’s sac, gently moving his balls around with his mouth.

“Suck them,” Renji encouraged, and Ichigo did so, taking one into his mouth, the pressure and suction feeling _so_ fucking nice. Greedily, Renji added, “Both at once.”

Ichigo, once again, did as he was bid and took Renji’s whole sac in his mouth, his tongue pushing up between Renji’s balls in a way that was so fucking nice it made his eyes want to roll back in his head. Most guys, even those who would be willing to bed another man, would consider this a terrible indignity, having their mouths stuffed full of another guy’s nuts, but Ichigo, if anything, seemed kind of into it. Though it was possible—okay, make that probable—that he did find it an indignity and that was _why_ he was into it.

Renji couldn’t take it anymore. His dick was seriously starting to ache, and the bead of pre-come dripping down the underside of it kind of tickled. 

“Okay,” he said, “Okay, baby, that’s good. I want you to suck it, now, suck my dick for me, huh? I want to see you take much as you can.”

That came out less commanding and more incoherent than he would have liked, but it must have got the point across because Ichigo released his balls and Renji’s head lolled back as a wonderful wet warmth engulfed the head of his dick. 

 _Holy fuck_ , Renji thought ecstatically, his eyes squeezed shut, _do I ever love getting head._

Ichigo’s tongue should be the subject of as much amazement as his stupidly huge reiatsu—defeating Ywach had nothing on making Renji feel _this good_ right now. Seriously, his _tongue_ , though—that was what made blowjobs so great, right? That you got that velvety softness right where it was most appreciated, on the sensitive underside of your dick. Fuck, but it felt good. Ichigo’s mouth was so hot inside and his lips were a tight, plush circle around Renji’s dick.

Ichigo took him in a little deeper, then a little more, until he’d managed about half, the head pressed firmly to the back of Ichigo’s throat, and then had to reverse course. 

“ _Shit,_ baby,” Renji cursed, because now Ichigo was _sucking_ as he pulled off. “Yeah, like that—nice and slow. You’re makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, Ichigo. _Such_ a goddamn good boy.”

Ichigo pulled back all the way until he was only kissing the tip, then slowly worked his mouth down again, so good it made Renji’s toes curl. 

A loud, high cry distracted them both, breaking out of the soft susurration of whispers and low moans that had become their background noise, and Renji turned to look, shuddering as Ichigo did the same, inadvertently pressing the head of Renji’s dick against the inside of his cheek. 

Rukia had one arm wrapped around Orihime’s middle, reaching up to pinch one of her nipples, and the other still pressed the vibrator between her legs—higher up, now, right against her clit. Orihime panted loudly, her head thrown back, her legs spread wide, her hips working, her hands reaching back to clutch at Rukia.

“Your girl looks like she’s ‘bout to come,” Renji observed quietly,

“How come Rukia can do that so easily?” Ichigo pulled off to mutter, seeming torn between dismay and delight.

“Vibrators, man. You should get one,” Renji offered. Rukia wasn’t the type who had trouble climaxing—in large part because she didn’t hesitate to demand exactly what she wanted—but the quickest and most surefire way to get her off was to apply some technology to the problem. Plus it was just fucking fun, feeding Rukia’s bottomless appetite for sexual pleasure, making her come over and over so she was swollen and soaking by the time he got inside her. Then there were all the ways she could use one on him…

Sensing their eyes on her, maybe, Orihime opened her own, looking over at them, her expression the very picture of wantonness. Her eyes were hazy and half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted. She moaned aloud as watched them watching her, and after a moment, she added, “Ichigo,isn’t there… s-something you should be doing?”

Her eyes raked Renji’s body and Ichigo’s, too, taking in the way he’d (apparently unconsciously) ended up in the same position as he had been earlier, on his hands and knees with his ass—which was still holding the vibrating plug Renji had put in it—in the air. Ichigo gave his wife one last heated look and then turned back to his task, swallowing Renji down with renewed enthusiasm.

This time, there was nothing slow about it. He wrapped his hand around the base of Renji’s cock and set to devouring the rest, fucking his mouth down over and over in a quick, hard rhythm, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. Renji was so torn—watch Ichigo or watch Orihime and Rukia watch Ichigo? The sight of Ichigo’s lips around his dick was one of Renji’s dearest fantasies made flesh, one he’d first imagined back when Ichigo was still young enough to make him feel terribly guilty for imagining it, but the heat in Rukia’s eyes as they gazed at him over Orihime’s shoulder kept drawing his attention. 

She held his gaze as she trailed kisses up Orihime’s neck, but then broke their eye contact to whisper something in Orihime’s ear that made her moan, her hips going still as Rukia started moving the toy up and down her clit—in time with the bob of Ichigo’s head, Renji realized. 

Experimentally, he took hold of Ichigo’s hair on an upstroke and held him there, lifting his hips with a groan. Ichigo echoed the sound, muffled, the vibration of his voice humming deliciously around Renji’s cock. He’d had his eyes closed, but he opened them and looked up at Renji, his dark eyes conveying a clear message— _yes._

Renji tugged Ichigo up a little higher so he’d have more range of motion then fucked up into his mouth slowly, hissing his pleasure. It was the same but different, and maybe it was just a power thing but Renji thought it actually felt different when he was the one moving. 

With the hand that wasn’t tangled in Ichigo’s hair, Renji cupped his cheek, thumbing at the corner of his lips where they were stretched open to receive Renji’s dick. It made him so hot to watch it sliding past his lips, made his dick jerk in Ichigo’s mouth, spilling slippery pre-come over his tongue. 

Fuck, he could feel his orgasm building already, too aroused by Ichigo’s reaction to his spanking and the incredible way he was just letting Renji use his mouth, moaning around him, wriggling as he knelt between Renji’s legs, trying in vain to get some friction on his dick or maybe to get the intruding presence in his ass to go deeper. So hot… He should let Ichigo know how much he appreciated this view.

“You look so hot, Ichigo, taking this dick for me like a good boy, like a good little cocksucker,” Renji told him, his voice coming out so husky that even to his own ears it barely sounded like him. “You can take a little more, can’t you, sweetheart? A little harder?”

Ichigo whined and nodded, his dark eyes like burning brands. Good. Renji buried both hands in Ichigo’s thick, soft hair and started to work him up and down on his cock in time with the roll of his hips. 

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” Renji cursed—that felt even better than he’d expected. His mouth ran away with him, babbling filth as his hips shoved up harder into that impossibly addictive wet heat. “Fuck, baby, that’s it. You feel so fuckin’ good… Just like that, just let me fuck that mouth, you’re gonna make me come all up in that sweet little cocksucker mouth, oh _shit_ , Ichigo…”

He couldn’t look at Ichigo anymore right now, so he turned his head and looked over to Orihime, whose eyes were fixed between his legs, staring at Ichigo’s mouth sliding over his dick. Her hips moved at the same pace as his and Rukia’s hand moved in time with Ichigo’s mouth, but after a moment Orihime started to move differently, slow and hard, one of her hands covering Rukia’s to hold it still as she ground her clit against the toy.

Well, no reason he had to be the one setting the pace. He stilled Ichigo and followed suit, groaning as he worked his dick slowly in and out of Ichigo’s mouth, pushing in deep enough to feel the head of his dick pressing against the back of Ichigo’s throat. 

“Suck it, sweetheart, suck on it for me, nice and hard,” Renji encouraged, his head lolling back as Ichigo did so— _shit._ Orihime groaned low in her throat at the sound of his words, and Renji realized for the first time that she was getting off on his commentary just as much as he and Ichigo were. Well, he didn’t want to let her down, so he’d go on, despite the fact that he felt like he was losing the ability to make sentences work.

“You should see your girl, Ichigo, you’re gettin’ her so hot sucking me like this,” Renji told him even as he held his head to prevent him doing just that, pitching his voice loud enough for the women to hear. “She’s working her hips the same way I am—I think she wishes she was the one fucking your pretty mouth, making you take her dick.”

Ichigo groaned and Orihime cried out, and Renji could see that he’d got it right—he bet the suggestion was what Rukia had whispered in her ear.

“Yeah,” Renji continued, merciless despite the way tension was pooling in his gut driving him to fuck up harder, faster into Ichigo’s mouth. “Yeah, she wishes she was the one getting ready to come in your mouth, to make you swallow it. Is that right, Orihime, you wanna fuck Ichigo’s mouth ’til you come?”

“Yes,” Orihime panted, half-sobbing it out like it hurt, her hips snapping. “I… I’m so… I’m…”

“That’s it, sweetheart, come down Ichigo’s throat. He wants it, he wants both of our come, don’t you, Ichigo?”

Ichigo moaned, high and desperate and buzzing around Renji’s dick, and oh, God, he was so fucking close. 

Orihime jerked in Rukia’s arms, her back snapping into a tight arch, coming with a short, sharp shout, her jerky, needy movements going fluid as she moaned and moaned and moaned, hips rolling in time with the waves of pleasure running through her, and oh, God, he could actually see the opening of her pussy spasming.

“You ready?” Renji panted, his attention returning to Ichigo as he felt his whole body going tense, the pleasure of Ichigo’s mouth on him growing more and more intense, becoming unbearable. “You gonna swallow it all for me, Ichigo? Gonna be a good boy and swallow all my come? Shit, get ready, here it comes; here it comes, sweetheart, here it fuckin’ comes— _unnhh…_ ”

Fuck, he was coming, coming in Ichigo’s mouth so much and so hard that Ichigo was choking on it, and it was so hot and so wet all over his dick as it pulsed and pulsed on Ichigo’s tongue as Ichigo sucked, sucked it out of him, sucked like he needed every last drop, sucked until Renji was wrung dry and kept sucking, Renji’s hands holding him there with so much of Renji’s cock in his mouth that he couldn’t swallow.

Renji let him up and he pulled off enough to swallow then came up for air, panting, each breath going in as a ragged gasp and coming out halfway to being a moan. Renji wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone look so aroused—was this what he looked like when Rukia tied him up and teased him for an hour at a stretch? Probably.

God, Ichigo was sexy right now, looking up at Renji as he licked a smear of come from the corner of his mouth. Renji’s cock throbbed with post-orgasm aftershocks, but he didn’t feel entirely sated because the way Ichigo looked was turning him on all over again. He considered making Ichigo clean him up as punishment for spilling… The poor guy was so turned on that to make him wait him more was cruel, but it just sounded too hot. He wasn’t quite ready to be done with Ichigo’s mouth. 

 

* * *

                                                                                                                                                                         

Orihime sagged against Rukia, still trying to catch her breath. She didn’t know if she’d ever come so hard in her _life—_ orgasms were not things that happened to her with any great regularity, and certainly not ones that good. She felt a little like she’d been missing out; she’d never known anything could feel as good as Rukia’s vibrator against her, ah, clitoris had felt, the pleasure of it putting her into some strange state where all the things Renji had said just stoked the fire inside her higher instead of dousing it like such crudity normally would. 

But Ichigo and Renji had looked so… so _hot_ together, both of them so into it, and then when Rukia had whispered in her ear that she should imagine herself as Renji, as a man, as a man who could take his pleasure where he pleased and it pleased him to take it from Ichigo’s mouth… 

Orihime could never imagine herself acting so selfishly, demanding that Ichigo let her use him for her pleasure, but for Renji, it was different. There was nothing strange or wrong about a man seeking his own pleasure without regard for his partner’s enjoyment, not like there was for a woman.

She had thought it looked uncomfortable for Ichigo, what Renji was doing to him. Whenever she went down on her husband he always tried his best to remain courteously still, and even then she found it uncomfortable having to keep her mouth open like that, though she did like the sounds Ichigo made for her and the way he petted her hair, pleased. Plus, it never took long enough to be truly unpleasant.

So, it was strange that she’d found the sight so arousing. She didn’t care for it when Ichigo tried to perform oral sex on her, so why should she like it when he did it to Renji? Maybe it was the way every line of Ichigo’s body screamed his desire and pleasure to her experienced eye. That was one reason she didn’t like it, because she worried the whole time that Ichigo was either bored or disgusted. She didn’t particularly like doing it, so why should he?

Before watching Ichigo be so aroused by Renji’s cock in his mouth, it had never even occurred to her that oral sex could be enjoyable for the one doing it—it was called a sexual favor for a reason, right? It was called a blowjob because it was work. But Ichigo… there had been a moment there where he’d had to pull off to catch his breath, and he’d licked and kissed Renji’s erection like he was worshipping it, rubbing his cheek along the length of it with this expression on his face like it was the most erotic thing he’d ever done. 

Did he look like that when he went down on her? She didn’t think so, but maybe her own embarrassment had clouded her judgement. Or maybe he’d been less enthusiastic because she had been less enthusiastic, unlike Renji, with his filthily appreciative commentary. She just didn’t know. 

Rukia’s mouth was on her neck, kissing her, and Orihime tipped her head to the side and smiled, enjoying the feeling a great deal, her skin feeling flushed and sensitized. Rukia’s lips were so soft… Orihime turned her head and caught Rukia’s mouth in a sweet kiss and oh, it didn’t stay sweet for long, Rukia’s mouth hungry and insistent on hers, her tongue invading Orihime’s mouth. The way it felt sliding and twining with her own made a spark of desire flicker electrically between her legs, where her body was still oversensitive and excited.

It occurred to her then that it was Rukia’s turn. She… she should try to please Rukia the way Rukia had done for her. What should she do? Use the vibrator? Use her fingers?

Or… She supposed she could find out once and for all what performing cunnilingus was like. Would it be as unpleasant as she had feared, or would it be erotic to bury her face between Rukia’s legs? There was only one way to know. 

Orihime turned so that she was facing Rukia and started kissing her way down her friend’s neck, caressing her waist, her narrow hips, her small, high breasts that remained admirably pert even after carrying nursing her child. She’d always envied Rukia’s body, her slenderness, feeling balloonish and cartoonish in comparison. Orihime drew men’s stares like she was magnetic, but Rukia was what women called beautiful. 

It was strange—she’d thought touching another woman would feel like touching herself, but it didn’t. Rukia’s body was so different from hers that it was like touching some third sex, almost. Her body was not firm and unyielding like Ichigo’s, yet nowhere near as soft and pillowy as her own. Rukia felt lithe and strong under her hands, her smallness disguising her lethality, like a sleek black cat. 

Orihime’s own breasts overflowed even Ichigo’s big hands, but Rukia’s fit just right in Orihime’s. She was surprised by the way it aroused her to touch them, to feel the pebbly texture of Rukia’s nipples brushing against her palms as she cupped her breasts.

Rukia arched into the touch, sighing, and Orihime was seized with a desire to replace her hand with her mouth. She trailed open-mouthed kisses down the soft, fine skin of Rukia’s neck and chest, tracing the curve of her breast around and under with her tongue, spiraling back up to drag her tongue over a nipple then fastening her mouth over it, suckling.

Rukia’s hand came up to pet her hair as her body relaxed a little under Orihime’s hands, as she sighed her pleasure. Orihime plucked and pinched gently at the other nipple, scraping her teeth ever-so-lightly over the one under her mouth the way she herself liked.

“You won’t break me, Orihime,” Rukia told her, touching her face lightly. “Come on, bite a little. If it’s too hard, I’ll tell you.” 

So Orihime took Rukia’s nipple between her teeth and tugged, earning herself a little _“Nn”_ grunt of pleasure that sparked heat low in her belly. For symmetry’s sake, she switched sides and spent a moment kissing and licking Rukia’s other nipple before she repeated the maneuver to the same pleasing result. 

As nice as her breasts were, she couldn’t stop running her hands over Rukia’s hips and thighs. She couldn’t say why, but it excited her—the combination of femininity and strength, perhaps, the similarities and differences to her own body. She ran a hand down Rukia’s flat, firm stomach—another point of admiration and mild envy—and traced the contours of her hipbones with her fingers, the cup of her pelvis, the top of her mound. 

Desire sparked out from between Orihime’s legs to fizz over her skin, and she dove up to kiss Rukia’s mouth again, more boldly this time, her head no longer fuzzy in the aftermath of her orgasm and her desire renewing itself. It was a good kiss, short and hard, and then Orihime slipped off the couch to kneel on the floor between Rukia’s legs.

Orihime looked up at her friend, who looked back at her with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, the smoldering warmth of desire plain on her face. Orihime wanted her, suddenly and fiercely, and she rode that surge of desire as it gave her the boldness she needed to grab Rukia’s hips and tug them forward, then lean in and start kissing her way up the inside of Rukia’s thigh to her center. 

Rukia’s thighs were smooth and hairless, as was her mound but for a decorative patch of hair on top—to Orihime, it seemed shockingly naughty to have removed most of it, like something an actress in pornographic movies would do. Orihime’s heart raced in her chest, excited and strange, as she neared her goal. She… she had no idea what she was doing. She had never come from oral sex so she didn’t really know what to do, exactly. Hopefully Rukia’s reactions would guide her.

Rukia’s sex was appealingly plump, the outer lips full, hiding almost everything. They were… Even outside, they were a little wet, shining with the evidence of Rukia’s excitement. Orihime stomach swooped hot and nervous inside her at the thought, and she leaned in and nuzzled at the join of her leg, not quite ready to put her mouth _there._

Rukia took her nerves for teasing, it seemed, shifting impatiently but letting her do as she would. Here, like this, she smelled intoxicating, unexpectedly so, like the sea but warmer, earthier, like the scent in the air after a sudden summer rain. It seemed to go from her nose straight between her legs, making her insides quiver in excitement. Orihime had never thought of herself as bisexual, but must she be for the scent of a woman to arouse her so thoroughly? 

Emboldened, letting her want make her reckless, Orihime kissed the outer lips of Rukia’s sex; small, close-mouthed kisses trailing up one side and down the other. Then, nerves churning in her gut, she stuck out her tongue and licked between her lips.

Arousal hit her like a slap to the face, sudden and shocking, as Rukia moaned quiet encouragement. Rukia was so wet, all hot and slick for Orihime, and the taste of her was just as erotic as the smell; briny, sour, green-tea earthy. 

Orihime spread Rukia open with two fingers, then licked her again, this time with a broad, flat tongue, from below the bottom of her slit all the way up to the top of her clit. Rukia twitched eagerly and Orihime did it again, a small eager sound escaping her lips, and again, lapping at Rukia’s slick, swollen sex, her own twitching and spasming between her legs in her suddenly overwhelming arousal.

She tasted so _good._ Orihime had thought the slippery wetness of a very aroused woman might be slimy and gross under her mouth but it wasn’t, it wasn’t at all. She wanted to taste more, she wanted to feel more, she wanted to make Rukia moan, wanted to make her come. To that end, she leaned in and kissed the small but noticeable (swollen up for her as it was) rise of her clitoris.

Rukia let out a quiet, breathy moan and stroked Orihime’s hair approvingly, so Orihime did it again, then tried something different, licking it up and down, up and down, up and down, with the tip of her tongue. She tried opening her mouth and sealing it to Rukia’s skin then sucking lightly, Rukia’s resultant groan of “ _Yessss_ ,” making her belly flip around in excitement.

This was… this was kind of fun, figuring out what Rukia liked best. Making circles with the flat of her tongue was another success, but she ended up licking all the slippery away, and so she ducked lower and dipped her tongue into Rukia’s slit, letting out a small moan against her as her tongue entered that well of creamy fluid.

Orihime gathered up slickness on her tongue to spread over Rukia’s clit, then paused, wondering whether she should add some spit for good measure. Maybe Rukia didn’t like it that wet, though. She hesitated, but then realized something that wouldn’t have occurred to her before today—she could _ask._

Orihime drew back, almost forgetting what her question was when Rukia’s dark, half-lidded eyes fixed on her wet, reddened mouth a predatory intensity. She blinked, trying to recapture her thought, and asked, “Do you like it wet, or no?”

“Definitely,” Rukia answered, a lazy, self-satisfied drawl that Orihime had never heard before lacing her voice. “Go ahead, spit on it. Make a mess of me, Orihime, make me even wetter than I already am.”

That strange drawl made her sound a little like Byakuya, and the sound of it stirred something unfamiliar and deeply hidden inside Orihime, some part of her that blinked one eye open before she told it to go back to sleep.

Orihime spared a moment to just look at Rukia’s glistening, pink sex spread open on her fingers, creamy fluid welling up in her opening, then dove back to it with a little hungry cry, spreading saliva over Rukia’s clit to mix with her own juice, making her so wet as Orihime licked and kissed her, everything slippery and hot. 

Orihime’s fingers were getting tired of spreading, so she just lowered her mouth to meet Rukia’s skin and let go, her face buried in Rukia’s cunt as she sucked on her swollen clit. She was so turned on, so aroused by the feel and taste of Rukia’s body—the temptation to touch herself was profound and the temptation to grab that vibrator and use it on herself was even greater. She really wanted to feel that heady, intense pleasure again.

But she didn’t think she could manage to do both things at once, so she poured all her desire into licking and kissing Rukia, silently swearing that she would never deny Ichigo the chance to do this to her again. She was sure she could enjoy it if she was sure he was enjoying it, and now she knew that it was a pretty damn enjoyable thing to do.

Rukia’s hips were hitching against her a little in these surreptitious little jerks, like she was trying to restrain herself but couldn’t quite manage it, and while it made things more difficult, Orihime took it to mean she was doing well. She wanted to feel more, though, wanted to feel inside, so she brought two fingers up to Rukia’s opening and looked up to meet her eyes, silently asking permission. 

“Yeah,” Rukia told her, “Yeah, do it.”

Orihime slid her middle and ring fingers into Rukia’s slick, soft cunt without pulling her mouth away, moaning against her at the feel of it. She pumped them in and out slowly, amazed all over again at how much it turned her on to feel the silky wet walls of Rukia’s body clinging to her fingers.

Now this, Orihime did know what to do with. She crooked her fingers, angling for the spot inside Rukia that would make her cry out and finding it quickly, fluttering them against it in a come-hither motion and getting just the reaction she’d been aiming for, a loud cry of pleasure and a growing tension in her body, her back arching and her hands tightening in Orihime’s hair. 

She kept it up for a few breathless moments but had to stop and withdraw her fingers when they grew tired, and Rukia sagged back against the couch with a low groan, not releasing her grip on Orihime’s hair.

“I wanna try something. If you don’t like it, tell me, and I’ll stop. Okay?”

Orihime nodded.

“Good. Now stick out your tongue,” Rukia encouraged, “And just hold still.”

Rukia’s hands in her hair helped keep her still as Rukia started to rock against her, slowly and easy at first, grinding her clit against Orihime’s tongue. 

“Mmm, there you go,” Rukia said, that strange tone back in her voice. “Ahh, _fuck—_ “

 _Ichigo would like this,_ Orihime thought. It was like what Renji had done to him, but different. Orihime wasn’t sure whether she liked it, especially now that Rukia was doing it a little harder. It _was_ kind of hot, but she thought she liked it better when she was the one doing the work. 

Either sensing this or just tiring of her suggestion, Rukia’s hips stilled and she said, “Now, lick.”

She didn’t have to tell Orihime twice. She lapped at Rukia’s cunt, all up and down the length of it, until Rukia’s hands in her hair held he in place with her mouth over Rukia’s clit. So Orihime concentrated her attentions there, licking and kissing hungrily, pressing her legs tight together in an effort to soothe her ever-growing arousal. She felt so wet, the tops of her thighs slick with it, more than she could ever remember. 

Rukia shifted, catching Orihime’s attention, and she looked up to see Rukia looking at something behind Orihime. A rough hand touched her back, and she lifted her head from her task to turn around and look.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, looking down at her, “But Renji told me to come over here and offer you my services. You… The way you were kneeling, we could see… I thought maybe I could help.”

Orihime surprised herself by not being very embarrassed about that ‘we could see’ part. Ichigo and Renji looking at her there, seeing the shine of her wetness… It should bother her but it didn’t. As a matter of fact, she thought she kind of liked it.

“Is it okay with you, Rukia?” Orihime asked hopefully. She was already imagining how good it would feel when Ichigo sank into her. 

“Sure,” Rukia agreed, still channelling Byakuya, “As long as you get back to licking and don’t stop again.”

Orihime bit her lip and nodded, getting up to kneel on all fours instead of sitting with her legs folded under her, feeling incredibly wanton for doing something like this, for letting them share her. 

She wasted no time, spreading Rukia open with her fingers again and setting to work on her clit, earning a truly delicious moan. It was Orihime’s turn to make some noise the head of Ichigo’s cock nudged against her sex, rubbing against lips that must be just as slick and swollen as Rukia’s, teasing her clit.

She moaned loudly with her mouth sealed over Rukia’s clit as Ichigo entered her and made Rukia curse with the vibration of it. Orihime’s eyes fell shut as she concentrated on keeping up her task despite the near-overwhelming pleasure. Ichigo felt so amazing inside her, familiar and good but even better than usual because she was so worked up.

Ichigo’s tight groan echoed from behind her and he muttered, “ _Fuck,_ honey, but you feel good. So _wet._ You really like eating Rukia out, don’t you? 

“Mmph!” Orihime agreed enthusiastically. She couldn’t believe she was doing this—the four of them split into pairs had been wild enough, but she was actually having a threesome right now, her head in another woman’s lap, with a fourth man, presumably, watching them. She couldn’t believe this was something she could do, that she and Ichigo could do, and she couldn’t believe how much she was enjoying it. 

Rukia’s hands were tight in her hair, borderline uncomfortable, and her hips had started moving again, riding Orihime’s mouth even as Orihime licked and sucked her clit.

“Ichigo,” Rukia purred, “Fuck her harder. It feels good when you make her moan.”

He thrust into her sharply, deliberately, and Orihime cried out, muffled against Rukia’s body. 

 _“Yes,”_ Rukia hissed, holding Orihime tight to her, grinding against her tongue. “Lick me, back and forth, side to side.”

Orihime did, licking assiduously, moaning almost constantly from the way Ichigo was making her feel, plunging in and out of her. 

“Faster,” Rukia demanded, “Fuck, faster, Orihime, lick me, lick my clit…Yeah, just like that, oh fuck, oh _fuck_ —“

Rukia’s hips were rolling in earnest now, using Orihime’s mouth like Renji had done to Ichigo, and she was close, she must be, because Orihime could feel her cunt twitching and quivering in irregular spasms as her body grew tenser and her moans grew louder, Orihime’s muffled ones echoing them in her excitement.

Suddenly Rukia’s whole body pulled tight and her legs clamped around Orihime’s head as she came with a shout, and oh, God, Orihime could feel her spasming, rhythmic and hard, coming with Orihime’s mouth on her, and it was one of the most erotic things to ever happen in Orihime’s _life,_ despite the fact that she couldn’t breathe. The hard jerks of Rukia’s hips turned into a smooth, even roll as her tense cries puddled into low, ecstatic moans, and Orihime felt her grow slicker, wetter as the force of it expelled more of her juices.

She gasped in a breath when Rukia released her and smiled up hazily at her friend as Rukia petted her face before pleasure made her smile melt into nothingness. Her eyes fell closed as she surrendered to the feeling of Ichigo inside her, taking her, harder now, faster, as aroused as she was by Rukia’s orgasm.

She felt Ichigo shift and she jerked as something touched her, buzzing against her mound. Oh, it was the vibrator, in Ichigo’s hand now, and she reached down to guide it to just the right spot, pressed to her clit. The combination of the vibration and Ichigo inside her was by far the best thing ever and she felt her orgasm starting to build immediately, winding tight inside her, the tension ratcheting up to impossible levels.

Rukia’s small, soft hands cradled her face, thumbing away the tears that pooled in the corners of her eyes from sheer sensory overload. Orihime bit her lip to stifle her cries because she wanted to scream, it felt so good. Rukia tapped her mouth with one finger and murmured, “Let us hear you Orihime.”

She was too aroused and too overwhelmed to really give much thought to her embarrassment, so she did what Rukia asked and let herself moan aloud, pleased when the shameless sound prompted a “ _God,_ Orihime” from Ichigo behind her. Thus encouraged, she gave up trying to control herself completely, giving herself over to pleasure.

“Harder,” she gasped, “Ichigo, please.”

Ichigo obeyed her, giving it to her harder than he had ever allowed himself before, and oh, oh, _oh,_ it felt incredible. She was so impossibly wet that it didn’t hurt at all, and the vibrations made her body shake, tensing, flushed all over and sweating and almost, almost, everything inside her reaching for her climax, wanting more than anything to feel that overwhelming pleasure again. _I want it_ , she thought, _I want it, I want it,_ _I want it,_ but she wasn’t quite there.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Rukia cooed, and Orihime opened her squeezed-shut eyes to see her. She was so pretty, her big violet eyes soft and pleased as they watched Orihime, and then all at once her orgasm hit her, bowing her back and curling her toes, making her scream and clutch at Rukia as her body seized up and she felt herself clamp down on Ichigo inside her.

He didn’t stop, though he did pull the vibrator away. But he kept shoving himself in and out of her, so deep and so hard, and it just felt so _good_ as the waves of pleasure rolling through her sent her hips rocking back to meet him even as her body sagged in exhaustion and she rested her flushed face on Rukia’s thigh.

“Can I?” Ichigo asked, his voice tight with tension. Orihime started to answer before Ichigo continued, but then she realized he wasn’t talking to her. “You told me I couldn’t… Ah, Renji, I need it, I need to come.”

“As long as Orihime doesn’t mind,” Renji murmured from behind Ichigo. She wondered what he was doing back there, but it didn’t seem that important right then.

“I don’t mind,” Orihime gasped, “I want it.”

And she did, she really did. There was nothing more satisfying in all the world.

“Yeah,” Ichigo panted, picking up the pace. “Yeah, honey, you feel so good. Shit…”

Ichigo’s hands on her hips pulled her back tight against him as he stilled, buried so deep in her that it ached, and she could feel him pulsing inside her, filling her up, hot and wet and incredible. It went on for a long, breathless moment but then Ichigo relaxed and bent over her to rest his forehead against the back of her shoulders with a satisfied groan. 

“Oh my God, ‘Hime, that was amazing,” he murmured, slumping against her back, absolutely drained. 

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling tiredly.

Then she laughed, giddy joy bubbling up inside her. “It really was, wasn’t it?”

Ichigo straightened and withdrew, allowing Orihime to rise as well. She grinned at Rukia and then turned to face Ichigo as Renji went to join his wife on the couch. He looked flushed and happy and more relaxed than she’d seen him in ages. They grinned at each other, and Orihime felt her love for him swell up in her chest. She felt pleased and proud that she had worked up the courage to come to Rukia for advice and hadn’t chickened out of Rukia’s proposed solution even though it had shocked her at first, and surprised at how much she’d enjoyed the whole thing. She’d never have imagined that she would be able to give Ichigo something like this, and she’d certainly never even dreamed that the experience would have been as much for her as for Ichigo.

She looked into Ichigo’s milk-chocolate melty eyes and smiled even wider until the sweet ache in her chest drove her to kiss him, and his mouth was hot and slick and she could still taste Renji on him, and his body felt so warm and good against her sweat-cooled skin. He kissed her back, slow and deep and passionate, clearly feeling much the same thing she was. 

When they broke apart, Orihime turned back to Rukia and smiled at her, feeling tears pricking in the corner of her eyes. Willing Rukia to understand how much she meant it, she said, “Thank you, Rukia. And you too, Renji, for helping us.”

Rukia smiled back at her softly for a moment, and then the expression morphed into something entirely different, the smile sharp-cornered and one eyebrow raised. “Surely you two don’t think you’re getting off that lightly. Look at you! You can both still stand! Clearly we haven’t accomplished our mission yet. And there’s so much left to try… Not that we have to or even could try it all tonight.” 

Orihime felt her eyes go wide as she looked to Ichigo, who looked back, equally startled. “We’re going to, ah, continue?”

“Hell yes we’re going to continue, if you two are up to it.” 

Ichigo shrugged, obviously game but putting the decision in her hands. Orihime wiggled her hips as she contemplated it, feeling for soreness. There was none, and if the second act was anything like the first she knew she would enjoy it tremendously. Except…

“Do you have anywhere I could, ah, clean up?” Orihime asked, cheeks pinking as she felt Ichigo’s seed smearing the tops of her thighs.

Rukia’s eyes went unexpectedly half-lidded and she grinned her fox-grin again. “I think I have a solution to that problem. Renji?”

Orihime looked at Renji, uncomprehending, until she saw Renji lick his lips. She blushed bright red as she understood what they were getting at and then even redder when Renji gave her a wink. 

“Rukia doesn’t like it when I get her messy,” Renji explained, looking at her with an expression that was almost shy, smiling when Rukia petted his hair in approval. “At first it was a punishment, but I…”

“But now that leads to round two more often than not,” Rukia finished for him.

Glancing nervously at Ichigo to see his reaction, Orihime found nothing but approval and desire there. So she nodded, pink with embarrassment but guessing that Rukia had taught Renji how to use his mouth very, very well and honestly a little bit into the idea that he was some kind of possession that Rukia was sharing with her.

“Excellent!” Rukia cried, obviously quite pleased. “Now Orihime, why don’t you come sit here beside me. Ichigo, you know where the kitchen is, go get us something to drink. Both water and something alcoholic, if you will. And you, Renji… Get on your knees.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like Renji and Rukia in this, I enjoyed them greatly. This is my headcanon now that they have have an awesome, wild sex life together, wherein Renji's down for anything and just generally a good sport (GGG!) and Rukia's an imaginative and adventurous domme.
> 
> The Kurosakis... Not so much. They need a bit of help to avoid a lifetime of boring sex that leaves Ichigo unsatisfied and Orihime unaware that there's more to this whole bedroom endeavor than missionary. Thus, this fic was born.


End file.
